IN THE LIGHT of this thriftless day of spring, my poet, sing of those who pass by and do not linger, who laugh as they run and never look back, who blossom in an hour of unreasoning delight, and fade in a moment without regret.
Do not sit down silently, to tell the beads of your past tears and smiles,-do not stop to pick up the dropped petals from the flowers of overnight, do not go to seek things that evade you, to know the meaning that is not plain,-leave the gaps in your life where they are, for the music to come out of their depths.

THOU ART A glimmer of gold from the dawn on my life's shore,
a dew-drop on the first white flower of autumn.
Thou art a rainbow from the distant sky
bending o'er the dust,
a dream of the crescent moon
touched with a white cloud,
thou art a secret of paradise
revealed by chance to the earth.
Thou art my poet's vision,
appearing from the days
of my forgotten birth,
thou art the word that is never for utterance,
a freedom that comes in the form of a bondage,
for thou openest the door for me
to the beauty of a living light.

MOTHER, THE folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
'We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon.'
I ask, 'But, how am I to get up to you?'
They answer, 'Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds.'
'My mother is waiting for me at home,' I say. 'How can I leave her and come?'
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-
'We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know not where we pass.'
I ask, 'But how am I to join you?'
They tell me, 'Come to the edge of the shore and stand with your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves.'
I say, 'My mother always wants me at home in the evening-how can I leave her and go?'
Then they smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with laughter
And no one in the world will know where we both are.